Stargate Atlantis: Hornet's Nest
by the morrighan
Summary: The second half of my version of a series six. This is the tenth story.
1. Chapter 1

Stargate Atlantis: Hornet's Nest

"John? John, you need to see this!"

John Sheppard strolled into the bio lab, surprised to see Rodney McKay there sitting at a computer. He was attaching USB cords and wires between the alien neural interface and the machine. It was delicate work, and the physicist was frowning, hunched over and working with small tools as he attempted to join the two diverse technologies together.

Moira O'Meara was standing near, watching and chewing on her lower lip, hands thrust into the pockets of her white lab coat. She was clearly worried and glanced at John.

John raised a brow and stepped to stand next to her. "You okay?" he asked. She had left their bed early this morning, even before the alarm and John hadn't liked waking up alone like that.

Moira nodded, not trusting her voice. She eyed the blank computer screen.

"Rodney?" John asked, as his gaze also swung to the computer.

"I've almost got it! I should be able to upload the contents of this thing onto the computer and yes before you ask it is perfectly safe and isolated from every other system and yes the neural transmitter won't be on long enough to either send or receive a signal. Here we go."

"Okay." John glanced at Moira again and eyed the screen. "Well?"

"Just a second!" Rodney sat back and typed on the keyboard. He flicked a few switches and plugged in the USB to the computer. The neural interface began to glow red. "Here we go."

"Don't leave it on too long," John warned, gaze on the glowing object. He remembered it glowing like that when it had been attached to Moira and he suppressed a shudder. He glanced at her. She was staring at the computer screen, lost in herself, unreachable. He touched her arm briefly.

"Wow…wow…" Rodney muttered.

John looked back at the screen. It was filling with all kinds of data now…a mishmash of visual images and a language he couldn't even begin to understand. Scrolling data made no sense and it was flooding the screen. "Wow…" he echoed Rodney. "Moira, is that what you saw? Moira?"

"Yes," she whispered, staring.

John glanced at her, concerned, but he stepped closer to look over Rodney's shoulder. "Can you make heads or tails of any of that?"

"Are you kidding me? No! Except…except…those are mathematical equations! I'll isolate them to another screen. It's like a sensory overload."

"Yeah." John glanced at Moira again but her gaze had moved from the screen to nothing, or rather to the middle distance in the lab.

"Look at this, John! I can decipher some of this using simple algorithms to translate…there's audio!" He turned up the speaker. A harsh, garrulous voice was speaking. It sounded nothing like a language at all.

John shook his head at the noise. He glanced at Moira. She was staring at nothing, wide-eyed. "Turn it off. I said turn it off!"

"Okay, okay…" Rodney switched off the speaker. "I might be able to link this to the other device to find a common denominator and then—"

"John! John, how did it get here! John, do something!"

At Moira's panicked voice John whirled, hand going to his gun as Moira was staring at something behind them except there was nothing there. "Moira? Moira, what is it?" He stepped to her, exchanging a puzzled glance with Rodney.

"Don't you see it? How did it get here?" She pointed, voice rising in panic, in fear.

John looked to be sure but she was pointing at empty air, empty space in the lab. "Sweetheart, there's nothing there. Moira. Moira!" He gently yet forcefully turned her to him. "There's nothing there. What do you think you see? That fugly?" he guessed.

Moira looked at him, struggling in his grasp. She looked back. She stared. There was nothing where just a moment ago the injured alien had been standing. He had been bleeding, injured, one eye torn from a socket, tilting his head as he had been in that cell. It was beseeching her aid as an injured creature. It had lifted an arm, hand outstretched. She stopped struggling, swallowed. "You're right. There's nothing there." She met his gaze, shrugging free of his hold.

"Moira? Are you—"

"Fine! Quit asking me that!" She whirled and strode away from him. "Leave me alone!"

John watched her go. He scowled, made to follow her.

"John, wait! You have to see this!"

"Later, Rodney!"

"No, John, you have to see this!" Rodney insisted.

John swore and stepped to the computer. "Turn that damn thing off now!" Instead of waiting he grabbed the neural interface and yanked it free of the USB cable. The red light faded and was gone after emitting a protesting bleep.

"John! Damn it, there was much more on there! You're lucky the entire system didn't crash!" Rodney swore and grabbed the neural interface from the military commander. He turned it round in his hand but the device appeared to be unharmed. "A chance like this is unprecedented and I shouldn't have to tell you of all people that! I am going to link this with the recordings we have and just maybe we can begin to link sounds to words and sentences. Not that we can translate them yet but at least we will have an inkling of their syntax and structure."

"That's Atlantis."

John's terse words made the physicist stop scolding and he eyed the screen. Amid the overflowing data a hazy image could be seen, a drawing of the city. It was crude, as if based on mere hearsay or legends and wholly inaccurate in some areas but all the same it was recognizable. "Yes. Atlantis! Or a reasonable facsimile, maybe one of those sister cites? Maybe the one that visited them centuries ago?"

"Turnog," John said quietly, staring. "Isolate that and any relevant data!"

"I will…but it still doesn't make any sense!"

"Not yet." He made to leave.

"Wait!" The physicist's tone made John pause and turn back to him. "Did you just call her sweetheart? Is she your new—" Rodney didn't finish as John whirled and strode out of the lab to find Moira.

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Her mind was a maze of images and data and words she could barely comprehend. It was a whirlwind of confusion with an overflow of sensory data from planets and ships and the aliens themselves and words and equations and information that was a red tide threatening to drown her. She felt herself literally choking on the data and her head was pounding.

Moira wondered if this was how the insane felt.

She had fallen to her knees, hunching over and holding her head in both hands, as if she could squeeze out the information flooding it. The memories were vivid, too vivid, intercut with the injured alien beseeching her aid instead of harming her. There was an overwhelming sense of sorrow, of loss, as if cutting off its neural enhancer had somehow cut it off from the rest of its society and people. It was lost and alone and injured and could not communicate with its captors.

At the same time the flood of data was pounding, pounding as it pulsed behind her eyes and in her mind and her mind struggled, struggled to understand it, decipher it. Except it was like hitting a brick wall and nothing made sense.

"Moira."

The images were blurry, bathed in red like some nightmare. Groups of aliens were exploring new worlds, encountering humans that they did not recognize as being a similar species and the total incomprehension over the Wraith. These planets were rich and fertile and unlike any in their own galaxy. Yet still they continued searching, searching for the one ship, the one civilization that had stolen their technology from them, the holy relic of their expansion from their own world to several worlds to now this new galaxy.

"Moira!"

They were taking readings of everything, collecting as much data as they could about these new rich worlds and deciding which ones were worth conquering and which ones weren't. They were running comparisons to their own planets back home and they were especially interested in the alien populations of each planet. They were looking for something else as well.

"Moira!"

The alien technology was fascinating and somewhat similar to their own, yet very different too. So far they hadn't encountered much resistance except from those bug people but they knew that others like the invaders must be lurking somewhere and they were the real danger. They had called themselves a name that sounded like Anchants to their ears, but they did know one word. They knew the word of the place they needed to find, the home world of these Anchents.

Atlantis.


	2. Chapter 2

Stargate Atlantis: Hornet's Nest2

"Moira!" John was despairing. Moira was hunched on the floor in the hallway, lost in herself, in her mind, as if she was hooked up to the neural interface again. She was whispering faster and faster but the words were unintelligible to John as he knelt in front of her. He grabbed her arms and tried to lower them from her head but she seemed to be locked in place. He didn't want to hurt her so he gently shook her.

"Moira? Moira!" he repeated. She was oblivious, lost. She was starting to tremble now and John was going to call for medical assistance. Instead he stood, pulling her forcefully with him to her feet. He yanked her arms down, causing her to cry out as if in pain. He shoved her into a wall and kissed her. It was a hard, almost brutal kiss, stemming her words and forcing his tongue into her mouth to quell her panic.

Moira fought, melted and blinked. She pushed at John, finding herself pinned to a wall by his body and his mouth as it devoured hers. "John!" she gasped, twisting free of his lips and staring, wide-eyed. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she flared.

John drew back a little, only a little to stare into her surprised gaze. One eye was brown. The other was brown but had a purple circle round the black pupil. "I was going to ask you that, baby. You okay?"

"Yes, now that I can breathe again!" she complained, glaring at him.

John smiled. His body was reacting to her anger in a very pleasant way. He debated, glancing up and down the hallway. He freed one arm to slide his hand up her side, into the lab coat and along one breast. "You—"

"You've got to be kidding me!" She pushed at him again, but stared, seeing his concern. "John?"

"You sure you're okay? Do you remember what just happened?" he asked.

"Yes, you nearly thrust your tongue down my throat!"

John chuckled. "Not that! Before! When you saw that data on the computer…you…um…you sort of…um…hallucinated a fugly in the lab and then you were on the floor like you were hooked up to that thing again. A sensory overload like the last time."

"Oh."

"Oh? Moira, do you remember any of that?" John was very concerned now. Although she was calmer and seemed more rational she also appeared confused. "Come on. We're going to see Carson." He stepped back from her and took her arm.

She pulled out of his grasp. "No. I'm fine. It was just the…seeing all of that just made me relive it. I'm fine…I've got work to do."

"Moira!" John caught her arm again and pulled her to him. "You are not all right! That stuff is messing with your head and making you see things that aren't there!"

"Like you did in Tir na nOg?" she accused.

"Yes, exactly! Now come with me!"

"I'm fine now! Let go of me, sweetie! I need to help Doctor McKay with the language recordings and try to run a simulation program to decode similar sounds into actual words and sentences and then try to come up with an approximation of the…of the…"

Moira's eyes glazed over and she tried not to scream at the alien she saw standing behind John, beckoning with one grey-skinned hand.

"Crap." John drew her to him as she swayed a little, staring off into space. He swore and swept her up into his arms as she began to whisper again before losing consciousness. "Yeah, baby, you're fine, you're just fine!"

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Carson Beckett was very carefully extracting DNA from the tissue sample Moira had taken of the Homo erectus. He peered into a machine using sonication to fragment the molecules of DNA through ultrasound to isolate the specific strands. Taking the delicate sample he moved to a microscope to remove proteins, adding a detergent solvent drop by drop.

"CARSON!"

Carson swore as the dropper slipped from his fingers and landed on the counter. "What the bloody hell is…och!" He paused in mid-rant to see John carrying Moira to a bed. Instantly the doctor rose and hastened to them. "What happened?

"I don't know! It's like she was hooked to that interface again and she hallucinated and was in the hallway babbling and then she was fine and now this!" John stepped back after gently setting the biologist onto the bed.

Carson glanced at the distraught military commander before checking Moira. It was unusual for the man to ramble on like that. "Pulse strong, steady. She feels hot but she's not feverish. Tell me again what happened."

John watched Carson as he checked Moira's vitals, checked her eyes and ran a scanner over her head. "Just what I said! She was looking at the data Rodney was extracting from the neural transmitter. He got it onto the computer. She seemed mesmerized and then she thought she saw a fugly in the lab! Then she ran out and I found her hunched in the hallway, holding her head and babbling like she was before when she was hooked up to that thing. Then I broke her out of that and she was fine…until this."

Carson frowned. "Her neurons are over-excited, like last time but there's no damage. I think she just had a flood of memory, of sensory input and her brain is still trying to make sense of it all. We need to keep her away from all of that, John."

"Done. Will she be all right?"

"Colonel Sheppard to the control room! Colonel Sheppard to the control room!" blared a voice over the PA that sounded excited, not urgent.

John ignored the summons as Carson answered. "Yes. Let her rest. She's recovering now, naturally. I'll monitor her just to be sure and keep an eye on her vitals." Carson sighed and shook his head. More and more he found these odd medical emergencies to be beyond his basic training. He turned to John who was staring at Moira. "On no account let her near that data, do you understand me?"

"Yes, doc, I got it the first time."

"Good! Whatever's going on in her brain it needs to be calmed not stimulated."

"Got it. No stimulation…at least of the brain." His lips formed a brief smirk but then he sobered. "She'll…she'll be all right, right?"

"Colonel Sheppard to the control room! Colonel Sheppard to the control room!" the voice over the PA repeated, sounding impatient.

Carson smiled. "Yes, she'll be fine. Let her rest. Go on, now. If there's any change or when she awakens I will call you. Go. She's perfectly safe, I assure you." John didn't move, ignoring the summons as it repeated. "Go on, would you? There's nothing more you can do for her, John. She's recovering on her own. Her consciousness shut down to protect her."

"If you're sure…" He was loath to leave her.

"I am certain. Go on. Standing there won't make a bit of difference."

"You'll page me the second she wakes up?"

"The very second. Go on."

John still hesitated but finally he nodded and exited the infirmary.

He entered the control room, scowling, irritated at being interrupted. "What?" he snapped as he stomped towards the center.

There was a crowd around the console and they were smiling. Richard Woolsey met his gaze, about to speak, a smile on his face. Radek Zelenka met his gaze and informed, "We have them! We have heard from the Daedalus!"


	3. Chapter 3

Stargate Atlantis: Hornet's Nest3

"This is Sheppard. Daedalus, do you copy? Daedalus, do you read?" John straightened from the speaker and eyed Radek. "You're sure?"

"Yes. It was scratchy but yes, they briefly spoke to us. They will be here very soon." He tapped a monitor. There was a blip on the screen moving slowly towards the center, towards Atlantis. There was a second blip shadowing it but falling behind. "This is their last known position based on the transmission."

"They got our message?"

"Yes, they received our warning," Richard said with a smile. Things were finally looking up for the beleaguered city. "Caldwell's exact words were message received and understood. Then there was so much static we couldn't make out the rest."

"But they got the warning," John repeated, relaxing a little, just a little. "Keep trying to make contact. How close are they, in real time?"

"In real time? About three days, maybe less once they drop out of hyperspace in our solar system. You are thinking of intercepting them?" Radek guessed.

"Yeah. They might need some help." John rubbed his brow. A whisper of a headache was forming. "Better yet we can aid them from here. Pinpoint their exact location."

"What are you thinking, John? The Chairs?" Richard realized.

"Yeah. I think we can—"

"Colonel Sheppard to the infirmary," Carson's voice was emitting out of the PA.

"Gotta go!" John was already spinning on his heels to leave the control room, although Carson's voice hadn't been anxious or urgent.

"Wait! John, what are you planning?" Richard called. The leader of Atlantis sighed, and glanced at Radek. "I hate it when he does that."

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Moira was sitting up on the bed, trying to get off of it but Carson was holding her back. "No! Let me go! I have to see John now! I'm fine, all right! This is important!"

"I'm sure it is, love, and I have paged him but you must settle back now."

"No! I have to get back to work, Carson! This can't wait! I have to get back to work!" She struggled but the doctor's grip was surprisingly firm and strong.

"And I said no, Moira! You canna look at that data anymore! Look what it is doing to you! I won't have you endangering yourself!"

"It's my decision and I am fine now! Let me go! John needs this intel! John! John!" she called as he entered the infirmary.

John strode to her in brisk strides. "Let her go!" he ordered harshly, nearly going for his gun. He caught himself, startled at the extreme reaction.

Carson stepped aside, equally startled by John's aggressive voice. Moira jumped off the bed and moved to John, touching his arm. "John, John, they know! They know about Atlantis!"

"She still might be delusional or confused," Carson warned. "I want to give her a sedative to keep her calm and I want to continue monitoring her brain wave patterns in case of a-"

John held up his hand, stilling the doctor. His gaze was locked with Moira's. "The fuglies?"

"The Homo erectus, yes," correcting him automatically. "They know about Atlantis."

"But not its location, not yet, anyway," John surmised. "They have a schematic of it, a drawing, really, like a drawing from hearsay, from it being described. It was in that data. What do they know?"

Moira's hand tightened on his arm. "They, they know the name. They know it is the homeland of the Anchants…the Ancients," she corrected, lowering her gaze. A flutter of data and images came and went. "They are trying to find it. There were other things too but I couldn't understand…yet, I can't understand yet so I need to get back to work to find out."

"No."

She looked up at John's quiet but firm denial. "What? John, I have to get back to work! Don't you worry, I'll be careful! I won't access all of that data."

"No. I don't want you harmed in any way," John argued quietly, gaze stern.

Moira refuted, "I need to isolate the language parts and run them with the recordings we have and run a comparison with a language base! I once dated a linguist and he told me that all languages have a common base, and if you could find that common denominator for simple words you could start to translate it. Instead of using an English base for comparison we need to use a Gaelic one because their first interaction was with Tir na nOg and they may have used Gaelic as well as Ancient to communicate with them and if we can find that common denominator we can find a key to the—"

"Back up…you once dated a linguist?" John asked, quirking a brow. "When was this?"

"John! You are missing the point!" she flared, hitting his arm. "I need to research this and maybe we can at least get a gist of what they are saying or thinking or believing and you know how important this is! I promise I'll be careful and I won't even look at the data. I just need to set up the computer program and monitor it from time to time."

"What was his name and how many dates did you have with him?"

"John! For crying out loud would you focus on the problem?" She sighed as he folded his arms across his chest, unmoving, unresponsive until he got what he wanted. "It was way back in college, all right? Happy now?"

"How many? Did you sleep with him?"

"John! Do I ask you about your many many many women? I'm going back to work!" She shoved past him, but he caught her arm, stopping her.

"Moira, no! You can't take the risk!" Carson intervened, broken from his amusement over the argument by his patient's stubborn resolve.

"I can! It's too important and John knows it! Any day now they will on our doorstep and John knows that! John?"

He considered. "Were her scans all clear?" he asked the doctor.

"Yes," Carson was forced to admit, "but that doesn't mean continued exposure won't produce the same or even worse symptoms!"

"I'm fine, damn it!" Moira protested. "John!"

John met her defiant gaze. "Promise you'll be careful and only access it for a few minutes."

"John! You can't let her do this! I won't allow it! I—"

"We don't have a choice, doc, and I'll make damn sure she doesn't overdo it. Now…to more important matters…" He guided her away from the frustrated doctor. "This linguist guy…how many times did you have sex with him and was he—"

"John!" she flared, torn between irritation and laughter. She stepped closer, ran her hand playfully down his chest to his belt and tugged. "If you must know, colonel," she teased, coyly lowering her gaze and fluttering her eyelashes at him, "it was only a few times and he was nowhere, nowhere as good as you are."

"Ah." He smiled.

She raised her gaze to his smug expression. "Although he could get it up and keep it up for seven hours straight."

"What?" John exclaimed.

Moira laughed and winked at him before she exited the infirmary.

John smiled at her teasing, wanting her, but before he could follow the doctor caught his arm.

"I strongly advise against this! I don't care how bloody important this is! Moira's health is more important and I am surprised that you don't agree!"

John met the doctor's irate expression and shook off the restraining grasp. "I do agree, but we need this intel and she won't take no for an answer! I'll make damn sure she doesn't overdo it!"

"You better! She took a bullet for you, John! Don't make her regret it!"


	4. Chapter 4

Stargate Atlantis: Hornet's Nest4

"Is it true?"

John was standing in the control room, gazing over Radek's shoulder at the computer screen where course trajectories were blue lines heading for Atlantis. He looked up to see Teyla Emmagan and Ronon Dex heading for him. "If you mean the Daedalus, yes. We had brief radio contact." He glanced at his watch, noting how long Moira had been working. He would need to check on her very soon.

"This is good news but you aren't smiling," Teyla noted gravely.

"It all depends on what happens when they get near us and drop out of hyperspace. It depends on that second ship. We are going to help the Daedalus take it out, if need be, and go from there."

"Go where?" Ronon asked.

John ignored the question. "I might need you to reach out to your Athosian contacts across the galaxy. We are still having trouble tracking the fuglies and their movements and I need reliable intel from the planets."

"Understood, colonel," Teyla agreed with a nod. "The long-range scanners are ineffective?"

"Yeah…something like that. And as the Wraith are no longer any help we need all the help we can get." John sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Got it!" Rodney joined them, smiling and displaying his data pad like a prize.

"I hope it's not catching," John joked. Ronon snorted and Teyla rolled her eyes.

"Ha ha! I've got the configuration! All I need to do is to download it to our scanners and calibrate the distances and then the—"

"Whoa! Configuration of what?" John asked.

"The signal!" At John's blank look Rodney elucidated. "The alien signal! Between that weapon and the Penning trap I have configured the frequency that they use for both communications and for weapon alignment! The neural transmitter had a similar program as well. I can jam the signals so that not only will their weapons be temporarily off-line but they will lose ship to ship communications…temporarily."

"Temporarily," Ronon said with a frown. This did not sound like good news to him.

"Have you rendered the Penning trap into a weapon yet?" John asked.

"No! How many times do I have to tell you it's not a weapon! It's power, John! A way to power things exponentially in ways that quite frankly you won't understand because it involves quantum physics and particle theory! I still haven't been able to create an interface with our own systems but I will!"

"You will," Ronon said with a shrug, doubtful.

"Hey, it's better than nothing!" Rodney defended. "You try configuring an alien device and an alien language and finding the exact equation to align our own—"

"You did very well, Rodney," Teyla interjected before the physicist became even more indignant. "If we could only speak to them perhaps we could avoid more violence." She sighed.

"We're working on that." John checked his watch again. "Crap. I gotta go check on that. Good work, Rodney! Just make that damn thing a weapon already!"

"I told you it's not a weapon!" Rodney all but shouted as John exited the control room. The physicist sighed and looked at his friends. "I hate it when he does that!"

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John strolled into the bio lab. "Moira! Moira! Damn it."

Moira was sitting at her work station. A program was running on the computer and two streams of data scrolled side by side. She had on a set of headphones. She kept glancing over at the empty space across from her desk, then would flinch and look away, only to almost shyly glance that way again.

John realized what was happening. He moved to her and shut off the monitor with a push of his finger.

"Hey! I was working on that! You…John? John!" She removed the headphones and glared at him after a surreptitious glance to that corner. "I am working on this!"

"And now you are done, Moira! I told you not to look at that stuff, or listen to it! So did Carson! You still see it, don't you? You are still seeing that fugly," he accused.

Moira swallowed and glanced at the empty corner as John did. She met his gaze, about to deny it but sighed. "Yes. It's not there now, though." John's eyes narrowed but he could see she was telling the truth as she glanced there again and seemed to relax and revealed no reaction.

"Damn it, Moira!" John slammed his palm on the desk, making the monitor shake and the headphones jump. "Let's go!"

"No. I am working here, colonel, and I can deal with, with that hallucination. It's not there now anyway so let me continue this and—"

"The computer can continue this! You and I are going to have dinner!"

"Dinner?" She glanced at the clock on the wall, moving to her feet. "Wow…I seemed to have missed lunch."

"Yeah, so did I, so let's go, Moira. The program can run by itself. I don't want you looking at it or listening to it, all right? That's a direct order, doctor!"

She stood, glaring at him, hands on her hips. "Is that so, colonel? I can go over your head, you know! I can go to Mr. Woolsey and he can tell you to—"

"I can go to Carson and he will keep that pert little ass of yours in quarantine if that's what needs to be done!"

"Is that a threat?"

"Yes…it most certainly is!"

Moira was trying not to smile as John lips were beginning to form a smirk. She stepped closer and touched his chest, running her fingers along his black shirt. "And what will you do if I go over your head, colonel?"

"Depends, doctor."

"Depends on what?" she asked, voice softening as his gaze was boring into hers. The anger was giving way to passion now, the promise of such passion that she felt herself reacting with sensual abandon to him. He was incredibly sexy when he was irritated, as he was now.

"Depends on which head," he said with a smirk and a smile. The argument was becoming heated in a very different direction now and he was thoroughly enjoying it. Several ideas came and went as to how to take her, and where, and how often.

"John!" she scolded. "John!" she repeated as his gaze raked over her body boldly.

"So?" He met her annoyed expression. "Which one, baby, huh? Do you need to be on your knees…or do I?"

"Depends, colonel."

"Depends on what, doctor?"

"Depends on if you brought caramel sauce or not," she teased.

"Damn it," he mourned, pouting.

She laughed and playfully pushed at him. "Let's go! Dinner, did you say?"

"Did I? Oh yeah, I did." He pulled her into lengthy kiss. "Moira," he said low, guiding her body to align with his. He kissed her again, moving her backwards. She hit the table and the computer beeped in protest. "Can you guess what I want for dessert?" he said into her ear, running his hand up to cup a breast and gently squeeze.

She laughed and replied, "I bet it involves caramel sauce, sweetie."

He laughed. "It had better!"

"Dinner?" she reminded, squirming as he had her pinned against the table. "John!"

John smiled. "Let's have dessert first, baby." He took a step back from her but only to undo his pants. He yanked down his zipper. It was a loud, erotic sound in the quiet lab.

Moira smiled. "Can it go for seven, sweetie?"

"It can go for seven, baby, and seven after that!"


	5. Chapter 5

Stargate Atlantis: Hornet's Nest5

Ann Teldy was walking down the hallway when she heard the sounds. She paused, listening to the odd noises. At first she wasn't able to identify them and she followed after them, hand sliding to her gun just in case although there couldn't be any danger in Atlantis. Nevertheless it didn't hurt to be cautious.

The sounds were louder now, and seemed to be coming from one of the labs. She stopped and waved her hand over the door. To her surprise it opened. She stepped into the lab and froze, as the lights were flickering in time to the noises that were more audible now: a man's swearing and groaning and growling, a woman's whimpering and moaning and sobbing a name over and over and over. They seemed to be emanating from the back of the lab, behind several work stations and the pair was thankfully hidden from view.

Ann smirked as she realized what she was hearing. A couple was having sex in the bio lab. Judging by the sounds it was very energetic, enthusiastic sex. She almost laughed and turned to leave when two things made her freeze.

The woman cried out sharply. A man's name hit the air in ecstatic release. John.

The man growled and the top of his head was briefly visible. The riot of disordered, dark brown hair was unmistakable.

Ann had just walked in on her former boyfriend John Sheppard having very, very passionate sex with some other woman. His new woman. His fling, as she liked to think of it. Ann's fingers tightened on her gun. She felt glued to the spot, unable to leave, unable to confront him. Ice ran in her veins and her heart was thudding wildly.

She felt a blush warm her face. He had never made those kinds of sounds with her. And she had certainly never screamed out like that, at least she had tried to be more discreet about it. She heard more noises now, the squeak of a chair's wheels and quieter sounds turning to voices. Jolted she whirled and quickly exited the room before she could be seen.

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Moira was oddly serious as she sat in the cafeteria, swirling her straw round and round her Coke. She was staring at the ice cubes bobbing up and down in the carbonated drink. "So far the program is running but it may take time for the translation process to find anything coherent. John, do you think it's a good idea to use both Chairs? Don't you have to be very connected to the city for that? John?"

John was sitting across from her. He reached over and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, fingers gliding gently across her cheek. She met his gaze, startled by the tender display. He was watching her, a serious expression on his handsome face. He smiled. "If I am too connected you can just tell me about your undies again."

She smiled. "John." She caught his hand on the table for a moment, gazing lovingly at him. A host of emotions, effusions swarmed to her lips but she didn't say any of them, not sure he would be receptive to them. She was still flustered and overwhelmed by the passionate sex and tried to keep to more scientific concerns.

"Or better yet don't wear any."

"John!" She playfully smacked his hand, drawing hers away.

He chuckled. "What, baby?" He licked his lips. "You want more?"

"More? Wasn't that enough in the lab and the…oh…you mean ice cream? Yes."

He smirked at her embarrassment. "Yeah, what did you think I meant, baby? Oooh… my naughty, naughty paleontologist wants a spanking now?" he offered.

She laughed. "Naughty colonel. Well? Ice cream?"

"I was just thinking of how naughty we could be. Right. I'll get it." He stood, quirked a brow and added teasingly, "I will, won't I?"

"You just had it!"

"Yeah…I most certainly did." He winked at her and swaggered to the counter.

Moira softly laughed, shaking her head.

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Ann knew.

She recognized the woman's voice when she had said his name again. She had at first thought that John was just sitting with her out of obligation, or guilt, considering what they had gone through on the Hive ship. Naturally he would be concerned about her well-being and need to make sure she was all right. But as she watched them she saw more than she wanted to see.

It was the way they were gazing at each other. It was the quiet teasing between them. It was the tender motion of his fingers brushing back her hair and the way she was staring at him rapturously, enthralled not only by his handsomeness but by his emotion. And by the vigorous sex they had just enjoyed.

Ann stood and stepped boldly to John as he was balancing two bowls of vanilla ice cream on a tray, nodding absently at something the server was saying. "Her? Her?"

John turned to see Ann's anger and disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"That is your, your fling? Her?" She pointed towards where Moira was sitting in the back, oblivious to the argument as she stared into space.

John glanced at Moira, wondering if she was seeing an imaginary fugly again. He met Ann's blue eyes. "So? What of it? And it's no fling," he corrected and admitted all at once. He saw no reason to deny any of it now.

"She's…she's…your fling? She's the reason you…" Ann stammered, glancing back to Moira. The biologist was watching them now, worry on her face. John was about to protest, becoming uncomfortable and irritated when Ann did the worst thing possible. She laughed. It was a laugh of a woman who has seen her would-be rival and is not impressed. It was the laugh of a beautiful woman over a less attractive one. It was the laugh of a woman who realized she had nothing to worry about and as soon as the sexual attraction had played itself out she would get her man back to her in no time.

Ann laughed.

John glowered. He set down the ice cream tray with such force the bowls jumped and vanilla trickled onto one side. Ann paused, startled by his abrupt fury, the pure fury in his green eyes which were as hard as emeralds now. Without a word he stalked away from her, towards the back of the cafeteria where Moira sat.

Moira got up abruptly, seeing John bearing down on her like a man possessed. She mourned the loss of her ice cream. She stumbled into the chair, heart hammering as he was incredibly angry, incredibly sexy. She wondered what had happened, what his former girlfriend had said to him. She had heard the laughter and a sinking feeling swirled the pit of her stomach. She stared, frozen in place as John was reaching her, stepping round the table to her. His expression of fury was being replaced by warmth, such intense warmth she lost her breath.

"John?" she squeaked, her voice catching in her throat.

John smiled. He knew the whole room was watching him. He knew Ann was watching him. But he only cared about Moira as she stood, staring, like a mouse caught in a trap and he was the hungry cat about to devour her. He moved to one knee in front of her. For once his emotions were guiding him and he didn't care. He caught her hand in his. "Moira O'Meara, will you marry me?"

"Huh?"

An alarm blared.

"Colonel Sheppard to the control room! Colonel Sheppard to the control room!"

John jumped to his feet. "Crap. Well?" He sighed, pulled her to him and kissed her. A lengthy, sloppy kiss as he bent her backwards. He righted her. "I'll save time and take that as a yes. Gotta run, sweetheart!" He whirled and sprinted from the cafeteria.

Moira stood, stunned. "I hate it when he does that!" she muttered.

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John flew into the control room. It was a scene of chaos. Richard was directing technicians and both Radek and Rodney were jumping from monitor to monitor, shouting at the same time and seemingly understanding each other. "What is it?" John had to shout to be heard.

"Colonel! The Daedalus just dropped out of hyperspace and is requesting assistance!" Richard informed. His was a voice of calm in the cacophony. "Shield the city and keep up communications!"

"Whoa, now? I thought Radek said they would reach us in a few days!"

"I did, but for some reason they dropped out early!" Radek defended with a shrug.

"As did the other ship and it's a fugly, John!" Rodney waved at a screen where two blips were running an almost parallel course. "The Daedalus is taking heavy damage but they are inflicting more on the other ship! And that's not our only problem!"

John swiftly moved to view the screens. "Page Beckett and have him meet me in the Chair room. We're gonna assist from here! What's the new…oh crap! What is that?" There was a new blip on the screen, across the distance and heading from a different direction.

"It's another ship, a big one and I can't tell if it's Wraith or fugly!" Rodney warned.

"We only know that it is headed straight for Atlantis!" Radek added.

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The computer beeped.

The monitor powered on, but there was no one to see its first translation.

There was no one there to read the dire words as they filled the screen.

**ATLANTIS DESTROY ATLANTIS.**


End file.
